Apocalypsis 01 - Kahayatle

thingy kept the water from coming out with the force of gravity.   I walked up and squeezed the end of the clip gently, allowing a little of the water to escape.   It was a mix of very hot stuff from the black tank and cool stuff from the gray one, mixing to make a perfect temperature for a shower.  
    I hurriedly pulled the rubber band out of the bottom of my braid, sliding it onto my wrist so I wouldn’t lose it, and tried to finger comb all of my hair.   I brushed it every day, regardless of the fact that it was disgustingly dirty, so there weren’t any tangles to speak of.  
    I looked on the ground and noticed some plastic water bottles filled with a cloudy white liquid.   I unscrewed the cap of one and then the other, deciding which one was the shampoo by the way they smelled.   One had the light scent of flowers, and the other smelled more like the harsh kind of cleanser they had at my school in the art room - the stuff we used to wash the paint off our hands.
    I went back over to the hoses, squeezing the clip so enough water would come out to soak my hair and body.   Then I lathered the heck out of both, using generous amounts of the soaps.   I hated to be selfish and use more than my share, but like everyone was so fond of saying recently, I stank to high heaven; and it was going to take some industrial-strength stuff and lots of it to get me back to normal again.
    Coli’s voice came to me from a lot closer than it had been before.   “There’s a bucket of sand there.   You can take handfuls and use it to scrub your skin clean with the soap added to it.”
    I looked over and saw the dry sand, grabbing some eagerly and using it to slough off the dried, stained skin on my elbows and hands.   I ended up using it everywhere but my most sensitive parts, scrubbing until my skin turned pink.   It almost hurt, but it felt so damn good to be clean again, I didn’t care.   I even used it on my face and neck, totally thrilled with the feeling of non-oily skin.   My face hadn’t felt this soft and smooth in forever.   I wanted to sing with joy.
    I shampooed my hair three times, letting the soap sit in it for several minutes, hoping the harsh cleaning product was cutting through and dissolving the smelly hair grease that had plagued me for months.   When I finally rinsed it out, I could feel that my hair was almost completely dried out, which made me so happy I couldn’t stop smiling.   That’s how my hair had felt when my dad was alive.   I’d used gallons of conditioner over the years to try and get rid of that feeling, but now I just wanted to let it explode all over my head.   Maybe, possibly, if we could get along with these Miccosukee indians, I’d never have to have oily hair again.   A girl can dream.
    Once I was finished removing an entire layer or two of skin from my body with the scratchy sand and soap, I rinsed off.   I stood out in the sun for a little while with my arms up in the air, letting its warm rays and the slight puffs of breeze that made their way into the enclosure dry me off.   When I was almost totally dry again, I got dressed.   The shorts were too big since I’d lost some weight, so I rolled the waistband down.   I didn’t bother with a bra since I didn’t have a clean one anyway.   My chest wasn’t that big, so it didn’t make a noticeable difference that I could tell.   I slipped the tank top over my head and pulled it down to cover the top of the shorts.  
    I stepped out from behind the curtain expecting to be alone, but Coli was still there, standing back again at the entrance to the glade.   I walked over to meet her, combing my hair out with my fingers as best I could before putting it up in a quick ponytail.   It was getting too long, so I planned to cut it when I got back; just a few inches and I’d be all set.   Now I just had to find some dry shoes.  
    “You didn’t put your shoes on,” said Coli, looking at my feet.
    “My shoes are wet and they reek like dead monkeys.”
    “We have moccasins you can have.   But it’s dangerous to walk around here in bare feet in the meantime.”
    “Why?” I asked as we set off to go back to the hut.
    “Cuts lead to infections.   And there are spiders and any number of other creatures on the ground that don’t like humans walking on them.”
    I stopped immediately and slid my bare feet into my smelly shoes.   I didn’t need to hear the word spiders more than once.
    Coli waited for me to